Fool Me Once
by PrincessMeg x
Summary: Hermione and Draco can't help lying to, using, and hurting each other. Who breaks first and admits the obvious? DMHG.
1. It Begins

1

It Begins

"Neville!" A victory-high Seamus shouted across the common room. "Who would you rather snog, Parvati or Lavender?"

Neville's face turned a color that could easily be compared to a raspberry as the whole room turned to him. "I don't, erm… I don't think, I, uh-" And he abruptly stopped talking, turned and fled for cover.

"That's alright," Seamus said, turning back to where a large group of Gryffindor boys were gathered. "Anyone else got one?"

Ron, draped in a Gryffindor banner and still glowing with pride from the game, waved nonchalantly. "I do. Any females willing to step up?"

"Hey, Ron, have you seen my A History Of Hogwarts?" Hermione appeared behind him.

"Nope," he said, barely turning to look at her. "Come on, ladies, no one? Damn." Then he looked up. "Hermione! Care for a round of Who Would You Rather?"

"Erm..."

"Pleease?"

"Alright then. But make it quick."

"Okay. Zacharias Smith or," he paused for dramatic effect, "Malfoy? On second thought, that's pretty easy. I mean, I think _I'd _rather snog Smith."

"Would you let me answer, Ron?" Hermione snapped. She was suddenly annoyed. Probably because Ron always just assumed he knew what she thought, although she rarely got annoyed about it unless she was having a really bad day. And today hadn't been that bad.

"What, were you going to say Malfoy?" Ron appeared ready to quarrel.

She paused. Of course she didn't want to snog Malfoy. Sworn enemy, Death Eating failure, perpetual tormentor of the Muggle-born, no hex was strong enough to express how she felt about him. _But he's rather gorgeous, isn't he? What?! No!_

"Of course not, Ron, don't be stupid," she said, as though it were all a joke. "But it was the principle of the matter."

"Whatever," he said, sulking.

"Fine then," she said, sounding much less mature than she'd intended. "I'm going for a walk. It's too nice to be inside."

Once outside the portrait hole, she had to stop and lean on the wall. Hermione Granger found herself rather lightheaded. When she'd gathered herself, she began the walk down to the lake and attempted to puzzle out her odd reaction. _He's attractive, it's been obvious since the day you met_, her sensitive side said. The logical part of her brain responded, _But I've never felt like that around other attractive boys. What's so different about him, other than he's a git?_

She closed her eyes, trying to tune into her senses, something she'd learned at a yoga class her mum had made her try over the summer. _I mean, Harry's quite good looking too. Malfoy, though. He's so... so-_

"Granger, watch where you're going!"

_So right in front of me. _She looked up into those grey eyes and a bomb exploded in the pit of her stomach. _What do I say? What do I do? Do I bitch- that's not a nice word- _lash_ out at him like everything's normal? …Of course I do! He's Malfoy. And this _is_ normal, for Chrissakes._

"Malfoy! Hello! I was hoping to run into you out here," she said brightly, her tongue so far in her cheek it was a wonder it wasn't poking out the other side.

"Really?" Disbelief was etched onto his pale, handsome face, but she thought she noticed a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. Or maybe that was pure evil.

She faked like she was about to give an affirmative answer, then switched and gave an emphatic "NO!"

"Clever, Granger," he said, rolling his eyes. She waited for more, but that appeared to be the end of his statement.

"Yeah, well." She couldn't believe it. She was out of words too.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got places to be, Mudblood."

For the second time that night, someone had tested her patience just a little too much. "Really, Malfoy? Mudblood? After all we've been through together, you can't come up with something more original?"

"We haven't been through anyth-"

"That's the point, stupid. But I swear, if you call me Mudblood one more time, I'll…"

"You'll what?" He looked skeptical. "…Mudblood."

"I'll-" And with that, Hermione forgot all of her magical training, reverted to Muggle self-defense, and gave him a swift knee in the groin.

"What the hell, Granger? Is something seriously wrong with you?" Malfoy managed to get out, despite being doubled over and wheezing.

"Yes," she said with as much venom as she could, "I'm a Mudblood. Sorry!" As she flounced off, Hermione though she heard a wheeze that sounded almost like a laugh.

A figure appeared at the end of the hall. "Oh dear, what's been going on here?" tiny Professor Flitwick asked. "Mr. Malfoy, are you alright? Miss Granger?"

"I- erm-"

"So sorry, Professor," Malfoy said, standing up gingerly. "I've been having trouble in Muggle Studies and Gr-", he coughed, "Hermione was teaching me some of their self-defense methods. She got me really well on that last one. But I'm alright."

"Ah. I... I see," Professor Flitwick said, nodding, though he clearly did not. "I hope you, ah, thank her for her… help. And get to bed soon. It's dangerous out here!" And he tottered off.

"Thanks, Professor!" Hermione chirped, then turned to where Malfoy was still having difficulty breathing. "And, um, thanks to you too. You alright?"

He regarded her coldly. "Fine. No problem, you think I wanted to get a detention with you?" And with that, a paler-than-usual Draco Malfoy strode down the corridor, robes billowing.


	2. The Aftermath

Draco Malfoy was stunned. And not just in the sense that he could barely walk from what he imagined were sprained balls. God, Granger was-

Nice. What was that about? And funny. "I'm a Mudblood." The girl had spunk, moxie, _cajones_, whatever you wanted to call it. She certainly wasn't afraid of him. It was almost refreshing. And the way she had bit her lip as she tried not to laugh at his present condition-

Dammit. What was he thinking? He'd been on his way to the lake to sulk, maybe torment some first years, but bloody Granger and her bleeding hidden charms. _She's a mudblood_, Draco reminded himself as he limped into the Slytherin common room.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, did you wrestle the mermen or something?" Blaise asked from a chair by the fire. Pansy, seated on his lap, giggled.

"Fuck off," Draco said. He somehow managed to get into the dormitory, where he conjured a bag of ice and collapsed onto his four-poster.

"Rough day?" Came Crabbe's voice from the next bed.

"Had better, yeah." Draco tried to sound nonchalant. He knew Vincent was actually quite observant, and would read fairly accurately into the situation given half the chance.

"'S not Pansy, is it?" Damn him.

"No. She and Blaise are happy." He put on a deep gruff voice. "It never would have worked out between us. It wasn't her, it was me. Something like that."

Crabbe laughed, the darling. "Another girl, then?"

"Do you often know everything? Yeah. But d'you mind if I don't want to talk about it right now?"

"Nah. Course not. I'll just remind you that you're Draco Malfoy. She'll come around."

"Thanks, Vince," Draco said. He groaned and clutched the problem area, rolling away from Crabbe to signify the end of the conversation.

"No problem. I think I'll go, erm, take a walk."

Draco chuckled. "See you later."

Somehow, he didn't think that being Draco Malfoy would make this particular girl "come around" too quickly.

"I'm impressed, Ron," Harry said as Hermione walked into the common room. "You haven't said anything about the match in, oh, three minutes."

"Well, you would keep talking about it too if you'd had stops like mine," Ron said, highly affronted. "Could you have blocked that one from Jones? It was all spinning and-"

"Blast," Harry said, looking over Ron's shoulder and grinning at Hermione. "Now he'll never shut up."

Ron turned to look at her. "Oh, hey, Hermione. How was your walk?"

"Alright," she said. A swift debate went on in her head, but the desire to keep her friends won over honesty and Hermione decided not to tell Ron and Harry (but especially Ron) about her run-in with Malfoy.

"Yeah? That's good," he said, distractedly. After a moment's pause he continued, "Listen, erm, about before. The game…"

_Damn_, she thought. Following the excitement she'd nearly forgotten about the excitement that had caused her to leave in such a hurry. She'd been hoping Ron had forgotten too, but no such luck.

"I'm sorry," he finished, looking at his feet.

"You're what?" Hermione gasped. She honestly couldn't have been more surprised if he'd said 'I'm pregnant.'

Ron gazed stupidly at her. Harry shifted a little to his right and Ron twitched. "OW! I mean, it was a bit- Stop it! I know!- a _lot_ insensitive, and I'm really sorry for putting you on the spot like that."

"No problem." Hermione smiled easily, and her inexplicable but infectious good mood spread to the other two as the topic of conversation returned to the Quidditch match.


	3. They Don't Sleep, They Wait

Three a.m. found Draco Malfoy unable to think, sleep, function. He couldn't even summon enough arrogance to express anger at those blood traitor Gryffindors winning yet another undeserved Quidditch cup, as the rest of Slytherin house had been doing. That stupid, know-it-all, mud- dammit, he couldn't even say mudblood, not now that she'd put her own spin on it. Draco was not amused.

Hermione Granger was- well, beautiful. And brilliant. And _shit shit shit. This is impossible_. His father would certainly not condone this sort of behavior. Draco sighed. His father. Look where prejudice had gotten him. Time in Azkaban, freed as the Dark Lord regained dementor allies, then killed in one of the many minor scuffles that had broken out after Dumbledore's death.

He scoffed. Lucius hadn't even had the sense to die doing something important. It had been a standard, regulation kill-some-Muggles trip, until Aurors arrived and Lucius was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Lust and anger, Draco's strongest emotions, had just entered his mind in rapid succession. He felt a strong urge to either hop on his Nimbus, open the window, and fly, or else wank off something fierce. He chose to fly.

Fresh air flooded his brain, and he found all thoughts of Granger leaving. He concentrated on the smell of the English countryside, remembering the first time he'd seen Hogwarts. Lost in his thoughts, Draco jumped, startled, when he realized he'd been flying past the same fifth-story tower window for two minutes.

She woe up, for the fifth time in the last hour. Glancing at the clock, she decided it would be too much of an effort to try to sleep right now, only to be reawakened. She got up and walked quietly past a sleeping Parvati to the window at the end of the dormitory. Hermione sighed, looking out at the lake. What _was_ that thing with Malfoy earlier? He'd called her Hermione, she realized. Only so they wouldn't attract suspicion, but still…

She sighed again. Things were weird between her and Ron since he'd broken up with Lavender. Harry was constantly agitated about the fact that Voldemort was still at large, or distracted because of what appeared to be a monster crush (she could only hope it was on Ginny). And Ginny, her best girl friend, seemed to be steadily working her way through a list of every male at Hogwarts. That left her with no one to talk to, aside from her aggravatingly silly roommates. Glancing at Lavender, who was snoring from a wide-open mouth and wearing an eye-mask that read "Shh! The princess is sleeping!", Hermione snorted at the idea of sharing her personal feelings with any of the sixth-year Gryffindor girls.

She resumed staring into the lake's murky depths. It was so peaceful down there, and she would bet the merpeople wanted to listen to her story. It just looked so nice…

Hermione was shaken out of her quiet reverie by a figure flying past the window. Groggily, she looked out to try and see what it was. Nothing appeared out of place, but she was paying more attention and was able to see, when the figure flew by again, that it was Malfoy on a broom. She forgot her train of thought and fell into a trance, watching him fly back and forth slowly.

He snapped his head up and looked around. She ducked, hoping he hadn't seen her. Malfoy looked utterly bewildered, as though he hadn't the foggiest idea where he was, or why he was there. He saw the window and started toward it on his broom, as though the window would explain everything. Hermione was terrified of being seen, until she remembered from Hogwarts, A History that Headmaster Armando Dippet had had all the dormitory windows enchanted so they behaved like tinted glass. She could see Malfoy, but he couldn't see her.

She had to stifle a laugh; he was right in front of the window, still gazing into it like a crystal ball.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She opened the window. "Malfoy, you look absolutely ridiculous!" He looked up, startled, and slipped. Her chest caught, and she only realized that she was holding her breath when she saw him hanging on with both hands, safe.

"Shit, Granger!" What're you doing in there?" He swung himself back onto the broom nimbly.

"Trying to sleep!" she lied. "It's awfully difficult when there's some dung-for-brains repeatedly flying past your window. You should try it sometime!"

"Merlin, Granger. I nearly died!"

That pissed her off. "I know that, you stupid prat! I didn't do it on purpose!" He looked stunned. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be a complete, erm, witch," she said. "Can I do anything to make it up to you?"

**Reviews would be lovely. Thanks a bunch.**

**xx Meg**


	4. I Can't Do That!

Draco's mouth hung open. Hermione Granger, offering to do something for _him_? Without being threatened? _Kiss me_, went one part of his brain, while another said _Shut up! It's a trap!_

"Anything?" he asked in a small, nervous voice.

"Anything. Gryffindor's honor," she said solemnly. He snickered internally. She looked about ready to raise her right hand and recite some kind of pledge. Then he realized what she'd said. "_A pledge on one of the founders' honors is magically binding, and cannot be broken without the traitor having a visible mark of shame."_, he remembered from Hogwarts, A History.

Out loud, he said, "What an interesting situation this is. A binding pledge. I can't even begin to- there's just so much. So many choices. Can I think about it and get back to you?" She started to protest, but he was quick. "Brilliant. You'll have an answer by the end of tonight. I promise on the grave of Salazar Slytherin." And he sped off, laughing.

Upon arriving in the Slytherin boys' dormitory Draco got out a scroll of parchment and started a list. He carried it to breakfast, classes, and breaks, adding to it almost constantly. Whenever he saw Granger, he winked to let her know that oh yes, he remembered.

By the time his last class, Charms, ended, Draco was carrying a worn, folded, holey piece of paper covered in writing, some squeezed into corners and many crossed out.

Things I Can Make Granger Do

-hex Potter and Weasley into oblivion

-kiss me

-watch while I hex Potter and Weasley into oblivion

-sing karaoke… no, that's just ridiculous

-fail a class to amuse me

-avoid the library for a month

-kiss me

-spend an hour locked in a closet with Longbottom- quite amusing

-take Veritaserum

He realized that most of his ideas were complete crap, and, pressed for ideas, decided to ask the only Slytherin he considered his intellectual equal.

"Hey, Nott," he said, sauntering into the common room, "What would you do if you had a Gryffindor's promise to do anything you asked? One thing?"

Theodore Nott looked intrigued. "What kind of Gryffindor?" he asked, eyes gleaming with ambition. _A very pretty female kind, _Draco thought. "Like, Potter?"

"Not quite," Draco answered, laughing. Nott, a Death Eater hopeful, was constantly on the lookout for opportunities to prove himself to the Dark Lord.

"Who?" Nott was intrigued now. Draco thought quickly to find some way to diplomatically say "back the hell off".

"Can't say," he said, shrugging. "Even Slytherins have to have some honor, right?" Nott gave a head jerk of somewhat-agreement, and Draco turned to walk away.

"I think I'd have him do something, like, socially condemnable," Nott called after him. Draco turned around. "So everyone sees that Gryffindors aren't really all that 'pure' and crap."

"Teddy darling, I declare you might be a genius!" Draco said, and made his exit.

_Granger, _the message brought by the eagle owl read in neat script. _Meet me on the tower where you brought that dragon first year. And don't make that face, you know exactly what I'm talking about. 8 o'clock. Don't be late.._

He hadn't signed it. He hadn't needed to, honestly- no one else this side of the Channel was that pompous, and no one else would (besides Ron, Harry, Charlie, and Hagrid) would have known about Norbert.

Why had he remembered all the way from first year? Although, she reasoned, the resulting detention from that late-night escapade had been fairly terrifying. Hermione supposed she might remember something that had led to an encounter with half-dead Voldemort drinking unicorn blood. Still, she couldn't shake an odd feeling about his memory of the Norbert incident.

Looking over the letter a sixth time, she sniffed indignantly. She was in the middle of a long and complicated Arithmancy essay, and no one, especially not Draco Malfoy, could take her away from it until she was finished, Gryffindor's honor or not. And if she finished after eight, then too bad for him.

Hermione rolled her eyes. This was too much. It was 7:30, and she had just put down her quill, leaving her more than enough time to get to the tower. She searched in vain for something to do, but gave up and decided to just go and get it over with.

"Gryffindor's honor, my arse," she muttered angrily as she stepped out of the portrait hole. "Sorry." An affronted Fat Lady harrumphed, but nodded and settled back down.

Minutes later, Hermione arrived on top of the tower. "Minute late, Granger," Malfoy drawled. It was obvious he'd been there for a while, from the way he leaned so comfortably on the guardrail that kept miscreant students from falling or pushing others off with ease.

"Wrong," she replied. "I'm early."

"Alright then," he said, and stood up. "So, your task to repay me-"

"_Task_?" she interjected. "What is this, some kind of twisted Triwizard Tournament?"

"Exactly, Granger. And bravo for the attempt at a joke. So, as I was saying, it would really help me recover from this recent death scare if you would kiss me."

"Excuse me?" She gaped. _I'm dreaming, I must be. But fuck me if this isn't the oddest-_

"You find me that repulsive?" he asked, looking at his shoes.

"Quite frankly, yes," she said. "But also, I'm shocked that you're not asking me to kill Harry or something of that nature."

"Well done, Watson," he said. "That was a close second. But, all other things aside, I really like you. Would you, just for a second, pretend I'm not disgusting?"

_I can't do that! _"No, you don't really like me. You're not allowed to, remember? And absolutely not, I don't trust you."

"'Gryffindor's honor' doesn't mean anything to you?" he asked. He looked absolutely desperate. She stared back, blankly, while inside she weighed the merits of forever defiling the name and honor of Godric Gryffindor against disgracing Gryffindor house and all those affiliated with it by kissing this monster.

He mistook her silence for apathy. "Fine, then. Go. You're obviously not the same girl I fell for first year."

That stung. It decided her. She'd apologize to any Gryffindors past, present, and future- later. But she couldn't discover a male admirer, and then lose him just like that. Draco Malfoy might be evil incarnate, but he was also really good-looking.

And he'd liked her since first year? Well. That was flattering.

**Daily updates might be slowing for a while. School is horrible.  
Reviews are great.**


	5. Oh Yes She Can!

"You're obviously not the same person I fell for first year."

Draco stood there on the roof, panicking. That last piece of bullshit had clearly taken this conversation over the edge of believability. She was sure to burst out laughing in approximately five seconds. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

"Fuck you, Malfoy," she said. It had worked. Hook, line, and sinker, whatever that ridiculous Muggle phrase meant. He felt like giggling.

But he didn't. Instead, he looked her head-on and said, "Fuck _you_, Granger, I'm serious. You used to actually care about people, and what it meant to be a Gryffindor, and now-"

"What would you know about what it means to be a Gryffindor?"

He ignored this and continued, "And now, you're a bona-fide bitch! I really liked y-"

She strode forward and slapped him. He stared back at her, enthralled. The only other time he'd seen her like this was when she had started that campaign for house elf rights. It was fascinating. And she was so freaking hot when she was mad. For about three seconds they both stood there, not quite sure what to do.

It was impossible to tell who moved first. But somehow her legs wrapped around his waist and they were against the guardrail kissing like there was no tomorrow. And he was so absorbed in wondering where she'd learned to kiss like this that he forgot to give his signal to the cameraman who, luckily, knew his part.

Hermione was enjoying her current condition. She couldn't believe it, but here she was, snogging Draco Malfoy. Just as his hand started to drift up her shirt, she heard a click and saw flashes of light. She pulled away from an obviously incapacitated Malfoy to see a man with a wizard camera standing at the other edge of the tower, leering at her. She glanced back at Malfoy just in time to see him raise an eyebrow. The cameraman nodded and disappeared. "Right," Draco said. "See you around, Granger." She glanced at him and turned away, to gaze past the rest of Hogwarts to what was visible of the lake, her safe spot. _This doesn't hurt. Show him I don't care._ She looked back at him and rolled her eyes for good measure.

He felt something flip in his stomach as he turned to look at her one more time, in wonder at her kissing expertise. He turned, headed to the Slytherin common room while he waited for the sleazy paparazzo to return with the prints.

Hermione sat at the window next to her bed, which was fast becoming her favorite place in the castle. She wasn't sure how she'd gotten here, exactly; the last thing she remembered was standing at the tower's edge as Malfoy walked away.

_Shit. _Malfoy. The tower. _Shit. _He'd obviously hired that cameraman. You didn't have to be the brightest witch of your year to deduce that much. _This is bad_, she thought. _Who knows what's going on in that twisted, cunning mind? I have to find him, talk him out of it._ She stood, tiptoed down into the common room.

There was no sign that anyone had been in the common room for several hours. She sighed. Hermione didn't particularly like visiting Ron and Harry in their native habitat. It smelled like sweat and dirt, and if anyone saw her there and got the wrong idea… She shook her head, glanced around the room once more, and dashed up the boys' stairs. _Thank goodness for archaic notions about girls being trustworthy._

It wasn't a pretty sight. The drapes of Neville's four-poster were shut tight, but the rest of them slept out in the open, in various states of undress. She shielded her eyes and crept to Harry's bed. Quietly perched on the edge of the mattress, Hermione shut the curtains and whispered, "_Muffliato_."

"Harry. Harry. Harry, wake up!" She slapped him gently. "Come on, wake up!" He rolled over, groaning. "Harry, come on, I know you hear me. Wake _up_!"

Unable to avoid it any longer, the Boy Who Lived rubbed his eyes and propped himself up on one arm. "What is so important that you have to wake me at," he checked his watch, "two in the morning?"

"Well, you certainly look rested," Hermione whispered vehemently, annoyed that anyone could be sleeping when she was on the verge of such a crisis. "I need the Invisibility Cloak. And before you ask, I can't tell you right now, but I will soon."

Harry leaned over to reach under his bed and produced the cloak, handing it to her with an unusually serious, "Be safe."

"Thanks, Harry." She swiftly kissed his cheek. "You're the best. See you tomorrow." She left the way she came.

Out in the corridor, under the cloak's cover, Hermione finally thought about what it was she was doing. _Slytherin common room. Slytherin common room. It's in the dungeons, but how am I supposed to get in there? This was a bad idea. There won't be anyone I can follow in this late. What am I going to do? And tomorrow, pictures of me and- him. _Oh God.

_Hermione Jean, don't be foolish. _As always during a time of crisis, her father's voice entered her mind, steady and kind and logical. _It's just like with orthodontics. Start at the source of the problem._

"But Malfoy's the source of the problem, and he's in that room."

_Fine. It's more like police work, then. Return to the scene of the crime and all that._

"The tower?" She thought out loud. "He did look comfortable up there, maybe that tower for him is like the lake for me." Hermione took off. _Thanks, Dad._

She arrived at the tower minutes later, quietly out of breath. She stopped dead in her tracks, seeing Malfoy taking to the photographer and handing him a bag of money. The man disappeared, Merlin only knows how, and Malfoy glanced at the papers he held in one hand, chuckling. Hermione couldn't help but be floored by his dimples. She smiled. _I kissed him. He kissed me. And then he left, after the photographer he hired took pictures of us._ The smile faded.

"Malfoy," she yelled, stepping out from where she'd been concealed.

"Granger?" He turned, and Hermione caught a glimpse of the look she'd seen in his eyes, that day she'd kneed him in the balls. It was a mix of admiration and something she didn't recognize. He soon got his features under control, though, and adopted the famed smirk. "I thought you'd be bright enough to understand this. I kissed you- er, asked you to kiss me, so I could get this evidence," here he waved the documents in his hand, "and hang them all over Hogwarts by morning, rendering your reputation as dirty as your blood." He paused. She waited. "So, if you're here to confess anything, any feelings you might have for me, I would recommend refraining from pouring your heart out. What happened earlier was a trick, nothing more."

He was good, but she was better. Another skill Mr. Granger had taught his daughter early in life was the ability to read a man's face accurately, to see through lies. Malfoy's words were harsh, but that look of high esteem and a mystery emotion persisted. _Now, Hermione, how can you use this to your advantage?_ Her dad-voice asked. She bit her lip and looked down to stall while she racked her brain. For the second time that night, she wished she could see inside Draco Malfoy's brain. What did he want? What did he fear?

The voice that guided her was no longer her father's, but Ginny's. _Oh, honestly, Hermione. Don't be thick. What does any boy want?_

_He's different, _Hermione insisted, struck by how odd it was that she was having an argument with a voice in her head. _I'm a mudblood. And also, not much to look at._

_Would you please shut up? You're gorgeous. And obviously he doesn't care what your parents are. Look how he's looking at you!_

_Fine. Here I go to make a fool of myself. _Hermione took a deep breath and got into character. "Really?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Just a joke?" She hid her face as if crying. "I really have liked you since first year. I was so happy when you said that." She bit her lip again shyly. "And I thought you felt something when we kissed. I mean, I know I did." She looked up at Malfoy, pleading with her eyes.

"Nothing. It was all an act," he said nonchalantly.

_Come on, Hermione, he's wavering. Pick it up a little,_ the Ginny-voice prodded. Hermione looked back up at the blonde boy standing in front of her, through her eyelashes. She twirled a piece of hair and said in a breathy, quivering voice, "Nothing at all?"

He shook his head. She took a few steps closer, hating that it was so easy for her to channel her inner Lavender. "So, like right now, you don't feel anything?"

"No."

She walked right next to him and looked straight into his eyes. "Now?"

She heard and felt him breathe out, and knew she was getting to him. "No," he insisted softly, seeming to realize he was fighting a losing battle.

"Alright then," Hermione said. She slid her arms around his neck and came even closer, her lips mere centimeters from his. "And now?"

**Sorry for the long wait. Horrible school and my own laziness may result in very irregular updates. However, I'm on break this week, so Chapter 6 might be up quite soon. As always, reviews of any variety are not only welcomed, but encouraged!**


	6. Author's Note, Sorry

Ladies (and gentlemen, but I've heard they're pretty rare)-

Ladies (and gentlemen, but I've heard they're pretty rare)-

First order of business: apologies. It's been over a month since an update. I'm so very very sorry for this. Partly it was my fault- I'm lazy- but mostly it was my computer not letting me log into FF. As you may know, it's pretty hard to add to a story when you're not logged in. So _lo siento mucho_, a thousand times over.

Second: let's discuss this story. The response has not been huge- over 1000 hits, and only 11 reviews. So if you're one of the stunning, gracious, kind people who have been reviewing, I love you. I'm thinking about writing this off as a bad first attempt and abandoning it, but maybe if you all clapped your hands and said "I do believe in fairies", we could make something happen. Just kidding. Seriously, though, message me or review or something, in regards to whether I should keep writing. You're the best.

xx Meg

P.S. I don't usually enjoy when other people add author's notes as chapters, so trust me, it won't happen again. Probably.


	7. Author's Note Again But Good News!

Hello, darlings-

Hello, darlings-

The response from several months ago was quite heartening and I have to admit it made me smile like a fool for days afterward. I got some funny looks. You may have noticed, though, that I didn't update. Quadruple sorry with knobs, I really really meant to and I have utterly run out of excuses. So, first order of business tomorrow when I get home from work (1:30ish Eastern, although it may be a bit earlier because I got my bike fixed and will ride it home instead of walking, or a bit later if I am completely drained from filing and all kinds of ridiculosity) will be to add the next chapter of Fool Me Once. This is an advance notice so that anyone who wants to will have time to plan their release party. Ha-ha. I think that's quite enough from me for today. So, I love you all, I'm very very very very sorry for not getting here sooner, and posting this Red Herring author's note, and I will see you tomorrow. That is, those of you who are not ignoring me for leaving you hanging for so long or for being an egotistical maniac. I'm sorry!! Thanks.

Megan, Queen of Scots

P.S. Sorry if this makes no sense- I hit my head rather hard on a wood floor about an hour and a half ago.

P.P.S. Playing basketball. I don't just go around hitting my head on floors for no reason.

P.P.P.S. For those of you who couldn't tell, I have read a lot of Georgia Nicolson during my hiatus.

P.P.P.P.S. Goodbye for real. ¡Hasta mañana!


	8. Happiness Is A Warm Serving of Revenge

She closed the distance between them, kissed his lower lip softly. Fireworks exploded inside Draco, from his head to his toes and everywhere in between. He couldn't help it- his whole body sprang into action and he kissed her back, full on, with fervor and a passion unmatched by anything. Ever.

After quite a while, Granger started to pull away gently. She looked at him, eyes shining. "This is really sudden. I feel… a bit tarty. Could we… you know, talk for a while?" His inner scowl must have showed on his face because she amended. "A _little _while. And then we'll get back to snogging our brains out." He smiled. "It's just, I don't normally do this with people I don't know."

"Oh, believe me, you're missing out," he commented dryly. She looked put out. "Sorry, go on." He smirked, but there was a hint of a real smile in it.

"Right. So." She fidgeted. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what? I was just listening intently."

"Like, I don't know. Just stop!"

"Hey, Granger?" He could feel himself about to do something he knew he would regret sooner or later, and he felt almost positive he would regret it sooner rather than later.

"Yeah?"

"What I said earlier, it was all true." _Waitwaitwait, _his brain said. _It was? _ "I've liked you since first year." _I have? Yeah, I guess I have. Granger. Hmm. _"It's just that I was raised to- you know-"

"Hate me, yeah."

He winced. "That's not exactly how I would have put it, but pretty much."

"That's sweet," she said. He laughed. She kissed him mid-chuckle. He pulled her closer, and she stayed there. Finally, she looked up at him. "Obviously, we need to keep this a secret. You do realize that, right?"

He nodded, the pictures momentarily forgotten. "But I think we could have a real, er, thing between us." She was cute when she blushed. "Do you?"

_Did he think he could have a 'real thing' with Hermione Granger? _Draco didn't know. There was the purely carnal aspect, that much was obvious. But a 'real thing' was more than that, or at least that's what he'd learned from his mother's Witches Weekly paperback romances. They were having a civil conversation, and a fairly enjoyable one. That had to count for something, right? He took a deep breath and said the words that could completely alter his life. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Speechless, Hermione smiled. _Draco and Hermione. We'd look cute together, if we could be seen together. Hermione, focus!! This isn't real. _And then a plan came to her. She could only hope she'd bamboozled him sufficiently.

"Right, so we're going to give this a try?"

"Sure, why not?" His languid manner couldn't completely hide his smile. Not a smirk, but an honest-to-Merlin smile.

"I know we can't make public appearances, but do you have any idea how good we'd look together?"

"I would have to say we would be fairly stunning."

"All me, of course."

"But of course," he said, matching her silly toff accent exactly. Then he snorted, unable to keep a straight face. "Please be serious. You know I'm prettier than you."

Hermione shook her head. "Unfortunately, since this is a secret illicit affair we're having, no one else can tell me how good you make me look in comparison. Here give me those pictures you took earlier and I'll show you."

She held her breath. Draco glanced down at where the pictures had been sitting miraculously still for the last half hour or so. He picked them up and slowly looked up at her. "Shit. I am sorry about that. Really, I am. But… I don't really have any need for these anymore. I think I got what I really wanted out of that exchange." He grinned. "So, if you don't have a problem with it, I think I'll burn these now."

_Don't get too excited! _"Are you sure? About all of this?" She had to struggle to keep her face looking concerned, and not grinning.

"Positive," he replied and turned away.

_Yes! Yes! Yes! Malfoy, you darling fool! You're making this so much easier for me. _"I absolutely love you!"

Malfoy turned back. "What?"

"Nothing, sorry. Sometimes I talk to myself."

He grinned. "You're insane." He muttered a spell, and the pile of papers blazed. Hermione held her breath until the pictures had burned to unsalvageable, indistinct ashes. _Now to make an exit the Weird Sisters would be proud of._

"Draco, babe, look over there! What _is_ that?!" He glanced to where she had pointed, off to the right.

"Granger, I don't see- did you call me Draco?" He looked back at her. She was gone. And where she had stood lay a piece of paper with writing- a note

_Darling Draco, _it read.

_All a lie. Hope I haven't broken your heart too thoroughly or anything._

_ And if I have, oh well. I'm sure you deserve it for something. No hard_

_ feelings? See you in Charms._

_ Granger_

Fuck.

**I'm baaack! I meant what I said and I said what I meant and an elephant's faithful one hundred percent. Or something. Today marks the debut of my first oneshot, also Dramione. Please go check it out. Or don't. Have a nice day.**


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